Entangled with Blight
by NautiusV
Summary: Varus x Zyra Fanfiction. Adding more complexity and/or content to otherwise somewhat generic champions in league (and boy are there plenty of them.) I am an amature writer, and I welcome all sorts of criticism. I enjoy this pairing because they have a dynamic relationship, and they also make a killer bot lane. I WILL edit my chapters after uploading them due to time management.
1. Chapter one: Entrance

_Due to my scheduling and time constraints, I will most often upload new chapters before they have been fine-tuned for mistakes. I apologize, but this gets the chapters out in a more regular fashion, and I can work on edits during times when I'm not on my computer. _

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Few places in all of Runeterra could enemies and allies alike gather, and bloodshed does not quickly eventuate. On August 13 22 CLE the Institute of War called forth a mandatory meeting to all champions of the League. A new distinguished member of the League of Legends, they announced. The general hall this morning, unlike most, was filled with champions. Some smiled gleefully, excited for the newcomer. Others with disgust, of having to be in the same proximity as those they'd rather behead. Sitting considerably far from the rest was a man with silver locks tucked in a simple tail behind him, his arms and legs gleaming of mysteriously dark amethyst. Varus watched quietly at the crowd, his bow gleaming at the sight of Noxian generals across the hall. It yearns to slither out of his wrist into combat, its blood thirst raving, but Varus resisted. He knew the penalty of misconduct.

Varus calmly surveyed the crowd as they settle down in their seats. It has been several months since he joined the league, and progress has been made in his search for the Noxians responsible for ending the lives of his family. Yet the more victims he took, the more he, or rather his curse, hungered for bloodshed. The curling screams of his victims haunts his sleepless nights, and even now as he sits stiffly on the back few rows of the stadium seats, eviscerated bodies with shrieked faces flushes through his consciousness and he cringes.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the caliginosity that burns away at his limbs consumes him entirely.

The stadium hushed as the High Council enters. The middle one stepped forward and spoke with a booming, clear voice.

"Greetings, Champions. I trust you are all well prepared for today's battles. This morning we are all here to welcome our newest member of the League. She is a reputable, powerful sorceress from the Jumungu Jungle that wields the blades of nature at her fingertips. Ladies and Gentlemen, Yordles and Beasts, I present to you: Zyra."

The crowd turns to look as a delicate, yet sure-footed figure stepped into the sunlight. The leaves and flowers of exotic flora adorned the entirety of her being, while vines bestrewn with thorns slithered from her shoulders down to her fingertips. Varus watched carefully as her lips unfurled into a smile before unleashing a roar of maniacal laughter. Human. Yes, she is. And yet she carries with her the air of a rampant beast fresh from the wilderness.

A savage.

No. Perhaps a cursed savage.

Varus wondered if the sorceress before him embodied the fate he faced. He unconsciously gripped the caliginous growth writhing up his arms as he lingered on the thought.

A flicker of green and red brought Varus back into the present. Zyra graces the stage with a bow as the High Council steps back into the shadows. She poised one arm into the air and suddenly an assortment of sprouting bulbs emerged from the dusty ground. They seemed to each be about the size of a head; its outer leaves resembled the brilliant shells of beetles, and yet appeared supple, etched with veins and pulsed gently as if to carry a heartbeat. A pause. Then with one swift motion the sorceress cast her arm down and a frenzy of nature exploded onto the scene. From every bulb a vigorous stalky growth ruptured through its budding leaves and out into the sunlight, swarming over the barren ground and slithering over every bare surface. The crowd stiffened a little as everyone looked up to the overgrowth suspended above them, the blades of leaves poised at the audience's necks while the barbed flowers unsheathed their petals and hissed. Then without warning, the plants hastily withdrew back into their unassuming bulbs, and then withered into dust, all within a blink of an eye.

All around the stadium a resounding applause was heard. Zyra grinned as she proudly held her graceful posture in tribute to her electrified audience. The previously twitching swarm of darkness that plagued the Ionian's limbs suddenly hushed its chaotic movements. Varus rarely did so, but just this once he allowed himself a smirk in appreciation for the plant sorceress' dark humor, his lips ached as they reached into the unfamiliar corners of his cheeks.


	2. Chapter Two: Dusk

_A tiny creature draped in a velvet purple cloak shuffles quietly across the dim-lit hallways. The surrounding walls, engraved with scenes of the battlegrounds, danced slowly in soft hues of blue, then purple, then blue again as the cloaked figure scurries from corridor to corridor. Suddenly, it halts its frantic scuttle, and slowly approaches a dark maroon door. A tiny hand reaches from behind its cloak and knocks on the heavily embellished wood. The figure waits. Slowly the door opens and a soft purple glow shines from within the champion's abode, welcoming its visitor, who silently enters and closes the door behind it._

Nighttime is often quiet at the summoning grounds. While most champions do not permanently reside near the Fields of Justice, members of the League who wish to stay for a while are granted spacious accommodation. A Champion's dwelling is often adorned with immaculately polished shields and crystalline glass, furnished simplistically with a bed, a pantry, a wardrobe for equipment, and a countertop. Varus' pantry has never been touched; it is empty, save for the thin layer of dust that has accumulated. He has long since lost his appetite and his thirst for normal human sustenance.

The forsaken Ionian watched his door creak open to allow a tiny creature of darkness cloaked in purple into his room. He watched the minion shuffle clumsily across the floor. It removed its hood and bowed.

"The Noxian brothers are indeed, on the grounds tonight sir." The minion whispered.

"Hmm." Varus murmured. "What have you observed?"

"Draven was at Darius' place when I entered to serve their drinks. Various scrolls and books lay in disarray upon tables and the floor. Their weapons were sheathed by their sides, and they were dressed comfortably. The duo seemed to be at ease."

Varus deliberated for a moment before he spoke. "Were you able to pick up what they were conversing?"

"They sound vaguely like battle plans, but whether they were merely discussing tactics to be used on the grounds, or the next step of Noxian colonization, I was not sure."

"Were you able to imprint the lock?"

"Yes, from the outside, sir."

"Well done. Your services are no longer needed."

Varus reached out his hand. The minion gagged and heaved mildly as he was released from his restraint. From the neck of the seemingly formless darkness inside the purple cloak, a dark amethyst tendril unwound and travelled onto his outstretched palm, slithering back into the murky darkness in his arms. As if awoken from a dream, the purple caster's body suddenly bolted upright and started to shiver, confused as to how it ended up in a champion's living chambers with no recollection of the past hour. It panicked, glancing side to side from within his cloak in realization of his strange surroundings, before turning back to face a blighted bow priming a blighted arrow: A tongue of death.

But Varus did not fire. Violence of any kind was strictly prohibited at the living quarters of champions. The blow reluctantly retracted itself back into his gauntlet-like arms. He clenched his fists, glaring coldly into the eyes of the minion as it frantically apologized and excused itself out from the room.

The door shut with a hollow thud. Varus stood up and drifted to his window to check the time. First watch has just past. Those filthy Noxian dogs should be leaving for their supper soon; he had to move quickly.

For a long time, the cursed liquid that stains his body would aggressively reject any sort of fabric Varus tries to put on himself, violently writhing and tearing away at sleeves or trousers. Blistering pain would scream through his arms and calves, reminding him once more that these dark, jaded extremities move as if they were his, strike as if they were his, burned with agony as if they were his, but were clearly, not his. His vile curse seemed to tolerate the warden armour he once wore, however; they too, were etched with the Owl's enchantment symbols. The inner garments are all he wears now, but only in his own private surroundings. Gold and silver silk embroidered on cream white linen drapes past his torso and cuffs around his ankles. Donning on such a relic does not make him any less of a creature, but it offers him salvage to his humanity.

He strips of them now, however, and equips himself in something less conspicuous under the evening stars. Departing from his abode, Varus carefully sealed the latch on his door, and made his way towards the Noxian living quarters.

_Multitudinous flora careens the footpaths in the gardens that partitions each living quarter. From within the thicket that borders these ivory walls, a horde of thick, twisting vines creep slowly up the smooth surfaces, reaching into unlocked windows. The wild tendrils creep cleverly within shadows and corners, and caress the surfaces observed as it does. A single tendril touches and wraps around a tiny locket of silver hair found among velvet sheets. Upon contact, the silver hairs fade to brown as dark purple bleeds onto its prodding invader. As if ignited with a scorching flame the tendril recoils sharply and twitches wildly as it attempts to shake off its plague, collapsing into dust. But the wild growth remains determined. Without hesitation, another nearby tendril coils around the brown locket of hair before quickly slipping out of the room and down back the ivory walls._


	3. Chapter Three: Privy

Tonight, the bastard dines.

Good.

Varus peeled away from the window and hopped off the ledge. The delectable aromas of a scrumptious roast drifted in the thick air surrounding the Dining Hall. He has long since forgotten the pleasure of food or drink, no matter how tantalizing. He has long since forgotten the last time he's savored a meal.

No matter.

Revenge has always been a sweeter dish.

Varus moved swiftly through the shadows, watching and listening carefully for any soul that would find him trespassing the Noxian living quarters. When he found the Noxian General's room, he retched out a tendril that probed the lock on the hefty door. Varus held his breath as it twitched and turned, forged itself into a strange key shape, and slipped effortlessly into the lock.

A dull click resounded throughout the heavy wood. Varus breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the room and locked the door behind him.

The scrolls on the floor seem to be scattered in some chaotic yet orderly fashion. Mostly maps, however. As expected, a general of his stature was careful with where he kept more valuable documents. The jagged curse on his arms flickered as he surveyed every surface.

He spotted strange notch was found in the corner of the back wall. Varus gingerly maneuvered around the mess of papers to the back corner, keeping the ground as undisturbed as he could. He fingered round the edge of the tile for an unnatural protrusion, for he was sure Darius could not have made something too intricate for a Noxian's blunt fingers to open. He curled his fingers underneath the cornerstone and tugged revealing a sturdy wooden compartment. A cold draft blew in gently over the Ionian's head as he crouched over the bundle of parchments uncovered from the compartment.

So the general does keep a record of the High Command's orders wherever he is after all. He thumbed through the papers looking for places and names. Since the Ionian and Noxus Rematch years ago, the League has granted Ionia great protection from any further Noxus invasions. On the day of that Rematch however, Noxus saw perfect opportunity within the chaos to invade a few, small south-east villages of Ionia. Varus never knew why they did something so rash while both Ionia and Noxus were under direct eyes of the League's judgement, only that all he held dear was lost in consequence.

He knew that amongst the many Noxian heads he has taken that day, the General responsible for the attack remains alive, having fled like a dog between his legs. His name was unrecoverable from the bodies that Varus has slain.

And his name was not here among the parchments either.

Damn it all to hell.

Varus' frustration turned to anger, and then to rage. Before he know it, visions of agonizing death erupted through his consciousness. Bodies stacked to the sky as their noxian blood poured down onto steel and leather, the sky soaked crimson red. He felt arrows of blight piercing so easily through their flesh as they left his hand. The thirst has returned.

**_Teach the dogs agonizing death._**

Not again.

The Pallus was grasping for his consciousness and he knew it. He gripped his head as the room swirled slowly into darkness.

**_Your petty time spent searching could be used to purge the guilty_**

Despicable thoughts, and yet so tempting. Varus stood up in an attempt to clear his mind. He will not allow himself to be taken while in the room of one of Noxus' most powerful generals.

A tinge of red and green, so out of place, abruptly pierced into his consciousness. His mind suddenly cleared. On the window sill?

Varus peered at the strange wild growth that he realized swarmed the entirety of the window ledge. In a shadowy corner of that window, a red unopened bud sits in the pale moonlight.

Zyra?

Unsure fingers caressed the leaves surrounding the scarlet blossom. Its inner petals fluttered as it pulsed steadily in his gentle grasp.

Suddenly, Varus heard a gruff voice and heavy footsteps approach from the corridor outside. In a flash, the blossom retracted away into a vine that slipped off and down the outer walls. That was rather fast for a supper's feast. He quickly replaced the parchments and sealed the cornerstone back into the wall. The wild growth quickly started to retract from the window. Wasting no time, Varus leaped onto the edge and grabbed hold of the vines as they slithered down the walls. He landed with a muffled thump into a thorny rose shrub. From above, the Ionian listened -as he lay crumpled but hidden in the thicket- to the Noxian general as he entered his room with crude footsteps, trampling over paper books and scrolls. A faint, brusque voice grumbled something about messy chambers and tiresome advisors. Then a yawn, and a bed's creaked as it held itself against heavy weight.

Varus relaxed. Quietly, he released himself from the brambles that caught his fall. From the corner of his eye, he watched the vines retract into the nearby forest.

Against his better judgement, he picked himself off the ground and followed.

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_Darius bent forward from his seated position on his bed and frowned as he peered at his notched cornerstone. The dust surrounding it seems fresh. He also did not remember opening his windows as wide as they are now. _

_He stood up from the bed and approached the window ledge, swiping his hand over it. Soil._

_A trespasser._

_What cowards they are to be climbing ledges and not confronting me face to face, he mused. But if they should expose themselves again, their gutlessness will be punished with my judgement._


	4. Chapter Four: Foliage

Apologies for the much delayed update. School has started for me, and I was occupied with moving and travelling and getting work done. Updates will be slow from now onwards, but I hope it would be a little more punctual than this chapter.

Hope you enjoy this new update :).

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The full moon was barely visible through the heavy branches that loomed overhead. The surrounding grasses sprout tall, brushing against the torso of the cursed Ionian as he crept cautiously through the forest in almost blind darkness. He wasn't too sure that he knew what he was doing, or where he was going, but he was compelled to go on, determined to know if it really was the plant mage behind those vines, and what exactly her intentions were by invading the living quarters of a Noxian general. Further deep into the darkness he went as he carefully pushed away the flora that became seemingly numerous every step he took.

Suddenly a thick root bulged up from beneath his feet and knocked Varus off his feet and he fell to the ground. Groaning, he scanned the ground to see what he hit, eyes finally adjusting to the pitch darkness as he scrambled to his feet. Numerous vines and roots sprawled suspiciously on the forest floor. Their mastermind however seemed to be nowhere in sight.

Damn this plant mage.

Just before Varus was fully at his feet, the seemingly dormant roots suddenly sprung up and grabbed onto his ankles. Distracted by the sudden attack from below, Varus was oblivious to the barrage of vines which shot down from above him. Within seconds they coiled around his shoulders, chest, and up to his neck, knocking his breath clean from his lungs

Varus panicked as he was lifted off the ground. He choked on his breath, focusing with all his might to summon his bow. Swiftly, a great arc of dark, crystalline amethyst broke out from his left arm, bursting through the swarm of vines trying to restrain it. He quickly slashed away at the vines restraining his other arm and as he did, noticed significant rustling from the nearby thicket on the other side of the clearing. Without delay, he released a blighted quiver towards the invading entity.

A large flower rapidly blossomed in front of the thicket, halting the glimmering quiver in its path before shivering and wilting away.

"My, my. I knew I've caught large prey tonight…" Slowly, the branches of the bush gave way as a slender figure emerged from the darkness. "...but I hadn't imagined it would be so feisty."

"Unroot me or face death." Varus snarled.

"Death?" Zyra chuckled. "You're quite the bundle of fun. " She stepped gracefully into a narrow beam of moonlight. The soft, blue light of the moon cascaded down on the plant mage, but her face remained hidden in the shadows.

"Dying isn't quite on my immediate list of priorities I'm afraid." She smiled. "I'm not the type to play with my food but tonight... I seem to be in the mood."

She lifted her hand up and gestured towards him. The vines ensnaring the cursed Ionian quickly tightened and lunged him forward into the clearing.

"It seems however you seek business of a more serious nature. Cup of tea?" A nearby vine coiled around from behind the pair, presenting a small cream coloured teacup with a saucer. The Ionian momentarily entertained the thought of the plant mage before him having semi-pseudo cannibalistic habits. He peered into the cup.

Freshly boiled bees and beetles stirred weakly on the surface. Varus stared exasperatedly at her silly gesture although the cold expression on his face remained unchanged.

"Don't play games with me Zyra. I've taken the heads of many foolish who have tried." Varus said quietly.

"But you'd rather stomp right into a person's home and then disregard their hospitality?" Zyra asked sarcastically.

Varus hesitated for a moment. He considered the events leading up to this moment and decided there's no real point in making sense out of anything. He stretched out his hand and reached over to the small porcelain cup, curling his fingers around it. Upon closer inspection, the wares were indeed stolen from the Dining Hall at the Institute of War. Varus took in a breath, and allowed the vile corruption to flicker and flow from his fingers to the cup. Thin, headless snakes dipped into the water before constricting themselves around the dying insects, seemingly squeezing them of their last breaths. The insects flake as they each turn into a dark amethyst hue before disintegrating into the water.

"Fascinating" Zyra murmured as she observed the swirling purple murk that lay present in his hand. "A powerful creature of corruption manifested in the body of a human." Varus watched her as she picked the porcelain off his hand, distressed by the vines he feels constricting his lower body as they begun again to climb and curl around the rest of him. He grabbed firmly onto his bow. "Such a case is one that I am quite familiar with indeed." Zyra mused as she abruptly seized Varus' free arm to observe its oily, dark texture. Her fingers stroked boldly through the multiple layers of dark, jagged tendrils. Appalled, Varus quickly released a tentacle from his wrist, engulfing her throat as he flinched his arm away.

She must be mad. No one has ever dared to come too close to this monstrous alien body of his, let alone make contact with it.

"Your mockery poses little threat, plant mage. I can assure you, that you and I are nothing alike." Varus snarled as he shot a barrage of piercing arrow through the entangling growth that trapped his legs, freeing himself while Zyra struggled. "Unlike you I have not lost myself to a mindless parasite." He jumped down onto the forest floor, only to find it infested with seeding bulbs, now clearly visible in the moonlight.

"_Are we?_" Zyra lashed her arm vines into the ground. In a puff of red pollen the forest floor erupted with vines. Varus raced across the ground, stomping on the premature bulbs while trying frantically to dodge the grasping wild growth that came unceasingly from all directions. "_Tell me then, what were you doing, creeping around the chambers of a Noxian General_?" The plant mage had disappeared swarming thicket while he was kept busy. Her voice echoed through the trees.

"None of your business you hypocrite!" Varus snapped. She must be vulnerable up close if she's hiding from me, Varus considered. "You think just because your_ plants_ do your dirty work, you can't be held responsible?" He turned around and fired a piercing arrow through the growth, ripping through the stalks as they fell. But more vines he slashed the more they seemed to sprout again.

He had to stop the vines from the source. Varus fired another piercing arrow, lower down this time so that he could catch a glimpse of the floor. He spotted her feet just briefly before the slashed vines collapsed onto the ground. Quickly he fired a hail of arrows, desecrating the ground before the seeds could resprout. He dashed to the side, dodging the vines that emerged from behind him, and again shredded through the growth before poisoning the ground with his blighted quivers.

But as the vines withered away, Zyra was nowhere to be seen on the forest floor. A flash of green and red caught Varus' eye from above. Varus quickly glanced up and spotted her at last in the branches of a low lying tree. Without wasting much time, he ran towards her, unleashing a chain of corruption from his bow, which flew towards the plant mage and locked down her limbs and neck. "Surprise!" A heavy vine swiped the Ionian off his unguarded feet, sending him flying forward towards the low lying tree.

Varus crash landed against tree. His back scratched painfully against the rough surface while his head spun. A crash resounded from above him as Zyra too was knocked off the branches. Instinctively he unplanted his face from the ground and spun around to stretch out his arms and brace for impact.

**Thump.**

The soft evening light cast upon the clearing intensified as the moon moved away from behind the clouds.

Varus lay panting in confusion as he held the plant mage in his arms. Zyra seemed to radiate under the pale glow of the moon, her skin and body leaves lightly discoloured from scratches and bruises that covered her body. Her face, now unhindered by the shadows of the forest, revealed a strange expression of euphoria, seemingly oblivious to the harsh battle that just occurred. The blighted tendrils coiled heavily around her body posed no damper her fearless spirits.

"Tell me your name, champion of justice." She whispered, her fingers combing through the Ionian's silver locks.

"Varus." he replied breathlessly. "Varus….of Ionia."

"Varus of Ionia…." She repeated quietly to herself, and then smiled. "You should be less shy about wanting to play."

Slowly, vines from around them rose from the thicket. They carefully peeled the plant mage away from Varus' hold and lifted her off his body. He watched as she was seemingly swallowed by the thicket, melted into the darkness and the rest of the forest fell back into a peaceful silence.


End file.
